Bottom line, he couldn't post round the clock guards on his daughter, although the idea had merit. "At least promise me you'll protect yourself. Don't count on the guy to—"
"Why won't you ever stop being such a nimrod and listen to me?" Stomping forward, she shouted in his face, big fat frustrated tears in her eyes. "I told you already. We weren't doing anything. But if I'm going to be accused of the crime, I might as well go ahead and enjoy myself, don't cha think?"
She spun away and ran down the hall to her room. The slam rattled windows three rooms over.
A baby squawk sounded, echoed and built as Patrick cried. Aggie barked, scratching at Shelby's door, woofs turning to whines when she ignored her.
Zach reached down to scratch the dog's head on his way past. "Well, that went well, didn't it?"
Patrick's wails picked up speed and velocity. Man, the little fella was breaking a few sound barriers. Zach strode into the bedroom, Aggie dashing past to leap on the bed. The golden retriever burrowed her head under quilted pillows, Julia's additions to his room.
Julia lifted Patrick from the crib, her white terrycloth robe twirling around her bare legs.
"It's okay, sweetie, everything's okay."
"Want me to take him?"
Patrick wailed, his face tomato-red.
She shook her head. "Now that he's awake, he knows he's hungry."
"Of course." Zach leaned against the dresser, nudging the rainbow assortment of nail polish scattered along the wooden surface. When Patrick's cries didn't stop, Zach glanced up.
Julia was still standing by the rocker.
Her gaze skittered away from his and he could have sworn she seemed... Embarrassed?
He'd seen her feed Patrick hundreds of times the past months. They'd long ago moved past any awkwardness, and tonight should have cemented that. Why the sudden attack of nerves now?
He must be misreading her. Who could think anyway with the baby screaming? Patrick paused for a breath, then shifted the wails into high gear.
Surrendering to the inevitable, Julia sank into the oak rocker, slipping down one side of the robe to nurse him. The baby squirmed and kicked, hiccupping sobs between gulps.
Zach set aside a bottle of Passion Flower Pink polish and crouched beside her, stroking a hand over the baby's soft white hair. A surge of protectiveness rushed through him "Is he okay?"
She nodded. "I think so. The noise probably just startled him, and babies sense tension."
Plenty of that to go around. "I'm sorry Shel let you down."
Julia didn't answer, just rocked and cradled her son.
Zach dropped to the floor, leaning against the foot of the bed. His head fell back. "God, Jules, I don't know what to say to her anymore."
"From in here, it sounded like you told her all the right things. She's right about one thing though. We can't control her thoughts. We just have to hope she listened, and if she didn't, pray she'll be careful."
Not the reassurance he was looking for. "Sometimes it's all I can do not to lose it with her. She knows how to push my buttons until I want to shout it all out there."
"Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing."
"Now there's a new chapter for all those parenting books on my shelves."
"Put the books away for a minute. Maybe yelling at each other would be better than not talking at all."
He stared at his hands, shaking his head. "Not a chance, I lived that way growing up. My dad opted for the 'spare the rod, spoil the child' school of parenting. I swore I wouldn't go that route with my kids."
The creaking of the chair slowed, but he didn't want to look at her, not until he could be sure the memories wouldn't show in his eyes.
"You're not your father. You would never hurt your children."